


Modern Man

by KingRichRock



Series: The World Won't Stop [6]
Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), Hawkeye (Comics), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Abandonment, Angst, Clintasha sorta, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Heartbreak, The search soon begins, a new friend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-25
Updated: 2016-06-25
Packaged: 2018-07-18 02:53:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7296580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KingRichRock/pseuds/KingRichRock
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton is beyond Futzed up after having a building fall on him and his protege decide to leave him abruptly. So naturally he goes to a friend of Phil Coulson's for help.<br/>Tony Stark helps the master assassins heal Clint and becomes friends with them.<br/>Also the emotional fallout of Kate's decision at the end.<br/>February 12th 1990</p>
            </blockquote>





	Modern Man

**Author's Note:**

> This follows directly after "Hooray for Me..." and is a bit of fluff before a lot of angst. So. I hope you enjoy!  
> Title comes from Bad Religions popular hit off of Agaisnt the Grain/

With Kate having suddenly left him there, unable to still fully comprehend that Kate had just kissed him and left, Clint Barton could only whistle lowly. 

Because little Katie Kate, who he basically raised as he became an adult early made him think of all the things that must have been going through her head. And he wanted to go after her and tell her she was okay. But he was more damaged after that building collapsed on him than a usual battle. And the stitches on his foot made it impossible to walk at the moment, as did the massive stitching that held his abdomen together. 

And Nat would have kicked his ass, because she was in here a few minutes after a loud shouting match that happened in the lobby. Which had sounded a whole like Kate Bishop, just like the one before she came in and kissed him had. 

He hadn’t seen Natasha Romanov, who normally had such a solid composition this raw and exposed since Prague. 

“What happened Nat?” Clint said quietly, taking her to his side in the hospital bed as she rested her head on his chest and started to softly cry. 

“Kate wishes you had killed me because she loves you. And because she thinks she can never compete with me.” She said softly. So softly Clint would have missed it completely if the room hadn’t been so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Even with his old hearing aids. 

“No she doesn’t. Kate like cares about you a lot Nat. I’m sure she didn’t...” He started before he was cut off. 

“Oh she meant it Clint. She hates me because she hates that she cares about me because I took you from her. She’s young. She’s confused. And to her right now, all I am is the immovable obstacle keeping her from the only person she loves. And to her, she just messed up the only thing in the entire world that she valued more than anything else.” Natasha said softly, small tears falling down her face. 

She had grown to love Kate as family. The only family she had ever had. And what she had said crushed her. 

Clint sat there not saying a word for the next 30 minutes, holding Natasha close. Because he probably just lost the only constant person in his entire life because he was a dummy for 6 years not noticing what had been subtle hints the last few years. Ever since he joined the CIA pretty much. 

God she was 19, emotionally confused, and trying to find herself sexually. 

“Oh god poor Skye.” Clint mumbled, and Natasha looked up. 

“Yes poor Skye. Because she loves Kate. She was going to tell her on Valentine’s day. And this happened.” Natasha said quietly. 

“How did this mess even. Ugh I knew I shouldn’t have taken her with me because none of this would have happened. If we hadn’t gone… Shit!” Clint groaned, realizing the gifts for Natasha had been left in the trunk of Kate’s stupid car. 

“What is it, Clint?” Natasha said, raising her head to look at him. 

“Uhm. So this is kinda all my fault.” He said. 

“Clint 90% of your problems are your fault. What’d you do this time?” She said, a small smile on her face.

“Okay so I kinda sorta took Kate with me to get you a gift for Valentine’s day. I originally hadn’t planned on it, but she caught me sneaking off to the subway and offered to drive. I figured she wanted to get Skye something. But the gift I bought you was in the trunk of her car. If she really did take off, she did it in her car. Because that’s where she got my spare hearing aids from.” He said, putting pieces together in his mind now. 

Clint forced himself to sit up slowly, trying not to rip his stitches as he pulled off his hospital gown down to his waist and threw on his shirt. 

“Uhm Nat, could ya, not look. Cause. Pants. And stuff.” He said, and she felt her cheeks flush a little before turning away. 

He struggled to sit and shimmy into his underwear and pants, which were both soaked with dried blood and riddled with holes before putting on his socks, which too were soaked in dried blood.

“Wow. So you took the girl who's in love with you Valentine's Day gift shopping, for me. And you just didn't expexct anything bad to happen. You really do just look and act like the definition of a human disaster.” Natasha grinned, kissing him on his cheek as she helped him stand.

And so with one shoe on and the other foot covered in only a very loose and bloody sock, Clint hobbled along using his much smaller Soviet friend-girl (because Valentine’s day was gonna be to make them officially a thing) and they hobbled out the front door, leaving a crumpled few hundred dollar Bills on the receptionists counter as they made their way outside. 

“Stay here Clint, I’ll hail us a taxi.” Natasha said, resting him on a lamp post.

“No no no Nat. Phil say’s Tony Stark is reliable if we ever need him. And I need his hearing aids.” Clint said, and Natasha helped support his weight as they made an awkward straightaway for Stark Tower. 

By the time they made it, Clint was drenched in sweat and absolutely pale. 

“Next time you be dumb and let a building fall on you, we are going to heal you my way.” Natasha said, a small smile on her face as she looked worriedly at her favorite person in the entire world. 

“Might just have to make a habit of it then.” He said, throwing her the most Clint Barton grin on earth. 

They made their way into the lobby of Stark Tower. The receptionist moved to call security before they even made it to the desk. 

By the time they made it there, a large man was standing there ready to kick them out. Natasha made a face that almost made the much larger man flinch. 

“We’re here to see Tony Stark. Tell him we’re friends of Assistant Director Phil Coulson. Tell him it’s Clint.” Natasha said, resting her partner on the receptionist counter and sized up the security guard. 

The receptionist hesitated, but the large security guard, dressed in a very expensive silk suit laughed. 

“Ah so you know Coulson. Well, those might as well be magic words. Follow me upstairs.” He said, and the duo struggled to follow as Clint was getting much paler as the minutes moved on. When the elevator finally deposited them on the penthouse floor, he lead the way again until they were in what looked like a mechanic’s bay. 800 feet in the air. 

The man underneath the car was oblivious to their entry, as loud music, perhaps some Punk Rock band that Hunter would have known was playing loud enough that Clint probably could have heard it even without his aids in. 

The large security guard, who had to be the head of security, turned off the very large and obviously custom made stereo, much to the very loud annoyance of the man under the car. 

“I swear I am not in the mood for people today. Try again tomorrow Maria.” Came the irritated voice of the man under the car. 

“Well that would be fine and all Tony, but I ain’t wearing a skirt and don’t handle your scheduling.” Came the booming voice of the Chief of Security. Tony still hadn’t moved. 

“Well then why in the hell did you silence Ian MacKaye, Happy?” Tony asked, half serous half smart ass. He still hadn’t moved. 

“Some, well, people who know Phil Coulson came in. One of them looks pretty fucked up. Said his name’s Clint.” The man identified as Happy said. 

“Ah Clinton Frances Barton, codename Hawkeye. Deaf. Average IQ. Far above average marksmanship. Exceptionally clever and sarcastic. What can I help you with, Clint?” Tony asked, still underneath the body of the car, a drill whirring quietly. 

“The hearing aids you made for me got destroyed when a building fell on me. I could really use a new pair. Those were the closest I’ve ever been to what I’m assuming normal hearing is. And I could use some of your abundant medical skills.” Clint said, taking a seat on a tool chest that was closed by the body of the car. 

This caught the attention of Tony Stark, because he finally pushed himself from underneath the car, placing tools on the floor before moving to regard Clint. And even in work boots, and standing, he barely came to eye level with Clint, barely being taller than Natasha. Maybe the same height as Hunter?

“Ah Clint Barton. Boy does Phil not shut up abut you. Makes me almost not feel special.” He said, turning to regard Natasha. “Almost.” He finishes, giving her a generous once over before moving his head between her and Clint, taking a few seconds to put two and two together. “Interesting.” He finally settled on, moving to the wall of his penthouse workshop to open a small box of micro precision tool and micro measuring equipment. 

“What’s that for?” Clint asked Tony, and he just grinned. 

“I made some improvements since Phil gave those to you at Christmas. These one’s are smaller, will stay in place when you get your face beat in, and will bring you to 100%. Which, in your field of work, is especially useful.” He said, realizing now that the beautiful woman who had come up with the severely injured Clint Barton may not actually know what his day job is. She gave him a look that made her realize she was probably even more dangerous than the master assassin she stood next to. 

He motioned for Happy to pick Clint up and lay him down on a couch the next room over, where a projection screen hung as he grabbed what looked like a surgical travel kit from behind the bar. 

“My father, in addition to a brilliant physicist, engineer, businessman, and inventor, was also a renowned surgeon. One of many things he made sure I was also before he died.” Tony said to no one in particular as he began to check Clint’s opened stitches on his abdomen, pouring down an antiseptic and numbing agent as he began re-stitching with a much stronger fiber (of his own design). He had a perfect pattern laid down in a few minutes as Clint laid there, some color having returned to his face.

As he laid down a protective clear coating, Natasha smiled, holding Clint’s head in her lap, twirling his small tufts of hair as she watched Tony work. It was like watching an artist paint his masterpiece. 

“Hey Happy, love the whole ‘not doing anything’ look you got going on, but can you snag him some clothes from Rhodey’s room. This blood will infect anything it touches. Plus, it smells.” Tony said, and Happy nodded before exiting the room. 

“I’m going to start you on an IV to replace the fluids you lost walking here.” He said, poking Clint in the arm with no hesitation, hitting a vein. He popped a small bag into the intravenous line, and put it in Natasha’s hand. “Now for the foot.” He said, pulling of Clint’s disgusting sock and cleaning away the new blood and cleaning the wound before dressing it with the same precision as he had the abdomen. By the time Happy returned with a whole new set of casual clothing, Tony had finished up. 

“He still smells.” Natasha said, smiling, as Clint lightly tapped at her cheek in indignity and affection as he laid there on the couch.  
“Oh Mr. Stinks-a-lot there can go and shower. The stitches are coated in a liquid resistant gel that just finished drying, so he can shower. Make yourselves at home. I’ll begin work on calibrating his new hearing aids as he cleans up. Should be done pretty fast. 

And he was gone, Happy following him as Clint and Natasha sat on the couch, waiting for the IV to finish emptying into Clint, who had begun to look a lot better after maybe 20 minutes in Tony’s care. By the time it drained, Clint needed very little help to get up and make his way to the massive bathroom that had a shower the size of Hunter’s room in their own apartment.

Natasha helped him get mostly undressed before she hugged him and kissed him softly. 

“Don’t you die on me Clint. Cause I honestly can’t live without you.” She said, hugging him tightly. He kissed the top of her head, and started to blush. 

“I promise I won’t Nat. But hey, look at the size of this shower. Like. Wow.” He said, not realizing the implications behind what he had said as a mostly innocent statement. 

“In your dreams Barton.” She said, kissing him again before exiting the room, leaving him alone to shower. 

Natasha made her way out and back into the living room area, which was bigger than the whole of Clint’s top floor sprawl back in Bed-Stuy. She saw multiple pictures around. One’s of Stark and a tall redheaded girl who had to be the infamous CEO of Stark Industries and his fiancé, Pepper Potts. And there was another with the very familiar figure of Obadiah Stane and Tony as he graduated from MIT. And another of him as a child with his parents. Another one was of Happy and Tony in Italy eating some noodles as they relaxed on top of a small villa. There was one more with a man Natasha assumed to be Rhodey, dressed in his Air Force Uniform (nametag saying ‘RHODES’) at the U.S. Air Force Academy Graduation Ceremony, Tony having served as a guest speaker. 

She realized that to many, the eccentric genius seemed different, so removed from reality. But these pictures showed that, despite his exceptional brilliance and occasionally erratic nature, he was still a person, just like the rest of them. Well, the rest of everybody else. There weren’t many people like Natasha Romanov and Clint Barton. 

After staring at the pictures for a few minutes, she made herself a light drink to forget the rollercoaster that day had been. As she took a sip, Clint emerged, filling out Rhodey’s (who was just slightly smaller of stature than her favorite archer) clothing much better than she had imagined. But he had a small frown and a sea of worry in his eyes. Because of course he would. Kate had run off and he was worried about his best friend. 

“We’ll find her Clint. I’m sure she’s at home and you two can talk it out and it’ll be all okay.” She said, hugging him and holding him tight as she felt his breathing even out. 

“Okay Nat. We will. Just. Please help me, because I’m not really what to do here.” He said, before realizing the stupidity of what he said.  
“Yes Clint, because I of all people know how to handle this.” She said, rolling her eyes with a small smirk on her face. “Teenage girls and emotions and friends are so my forte.” She continued, kissing his cheek while standing on the tips of her toes before hugging him again and holding his hand. “It’ll be okay.” 

He smiled a bit and they walked back into Tony’s garage area, where he was finishing up the new hearing aids.  
The music of what Clint could now coherently tell was Minor Threat’s “Out of Step” played as Tony worked, and he noticed them enter this time. 

“Ah there the happy lovebirds are.” He said, chuckling at his own joke before sitting Clint on a stool. He placed the very small aids onto Clint’s ears, and they assimilated flawlessly into his skin, disappearing. 

“The Stark H 2.1 is top of the line. They assimilate into the skin of the wearer, basically dissolving onto the ear canal, correcting the deafness so you can hear perfectly while they are in. If you need them replaced or when I decided to upgrade again, just give me a call or I’ll give you one. Hope you like them.” Tony said, a bit self-consciously. 

“Dude these are fucking awesome!” Clint said with the same excitement as when he heard it was free pizza day at his favorite Brooklyn pizzeria. 

“I’m glad you like them Barton. Until next time.” He said, sticking out his hand. 

“Till next time Stark.” Clint said, smiling. 

Tony smiled before making his way over to an intercom. 

“Maria, would you please get Happy to drive my guests back to Bedford-Stuyvesant. No need for a long day to be prolonged by public transportation.” He said, giving both of the assassins a small smile. 

They both smiled at him as Happy lead them out of the Penthouse and to the ground level garages, where he helped them into a Rolls Royce Town Car.

The drive back to Bed-Stuy was pretty quiet as the two master assassins enjoyed each other’s company and each a cold beer as they arrived at Clint’s building. 

Clint motioned to tip happy with pretty much all he had in his wallet. 

“Please Clint, I make more than enough. You two have a good night.” He said, smiling as the two exited the car and entered the empty lobby area of his building. 

“Should really fix that fucking elevator.” Clint mumbled as he and Natasha made their way slowly up the stairs. By the time they finally made it to his door, he nearly collapsed from exhaustion. She led him to the couch and he was pretty much out. That was when he noticed the piece of paper attached to his bow and the pile of books underneath it. 

His name was on it, in Kates perfect handwriting. 

He opened it, revealing a rather lengthy letter. By the time he made his way to the bottom, he found himself sitting on the couch, crying. Because she was gone. No idea where. Just. Gone. His best friend had left him with no clue of how to find her.  
Natasha had read her much shorter letter, and was fighting back her own tears as she watched Clint collapse into an emotional mess. Then she realized someone hadn’t been there to greet them. 

“Clint, where’s Lucky’s bowl? And leash? And, well, himself?” She asked. 

“She took my dog. She couldn’t just leave she had to take my damn dog too.” He said, his tears falling unrestrictedly at the loss of hes beloved best frien and dog as he opened one of Kates various bottles of alcohol, whisky, and began to drink wholesale from the bottle. He paused halfway through. 

“My best friend left me Nat.” He said, nearly sobbing. “I fucked it up because I didn’t notice her feeling and this stupid girl who I’ve cared about more and for longer than anybody else left me. Without a trace. And she took my fucking dog. My life is shit. I’m going to bed he said, taking the whisky with him. She followed him, and for the rest of the night, she watched the only person on earth she had ever come to care for break down completely in front of her.

And she held him, because that’s what he had done for her when her whole world had came crashing around her. And she stopped him after that first bottle. And she helped steady him as he puked into the toilet. She kept the others away from him that night, as they all had questions about what had happened and where Kate had gone. 

The only one she allowed in was Skye, because she had to give the heartbroken teenager an explanation of what fully happened, because Kate omitted some stuff. And so she held onto to sobbing and drunk (Skye had come from a party already buzzed, and had downed a lot of vodka before knocking on Clint’s door) and she took care of both of them that night. 

“We’ll find her you guys. I won’t stop until we do. Because you both deserve closure. And maybe, just maybe, we can bring Kate home.” Natasha whispered softly to the two as they began to finally pass out from emotional exhaustion.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please let me know what you think!


End file.
